Sunday, September 17, 2017

Sunday Snippet: Variations on Violence

The Last Ship continues with its excellence. The tough love from Captain Meylan and Master Chief is something Chandler needed. I loved the twisty twist of "Hello, Fletch". I'm very interested in seeing what he does. Can't wait for tonight's episode.

Teen Wolf continues bringing old faces back and I'm so happy! At this point, I'm ready for the guidance counselor to die already. Truly, I pretty much hate her. Gerard is a love to hate character, but the counselor… not so much. She's just annoyingly irritating.

I got started on The Defenders and quite like it so far. The way the four main characters are coming together is pretty terrific and the snark is spot on. Should get at least one more episode in today.

Also started season seven of Hawaii Five-0. I'm enjoying the episodes so far. Not sure I'll be down with a season eight without Chin and Kono so this might be my last season.

I'll be starting the British show Fearless soon. Can't wait to watch Jamie Bamber on my screen again. Which means… I'll probably be binge watching the BSG marathon on Syfy next weekend. LOL

Oh! Terrific news. Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries is going super-sized and coming to the big screen. The crowdsourcing campaign reached its initial goal within forty-eight hours and the funds are still rolling in. Can't wait to see what the movie brings.

That's it for television this week. Tonight's post is from Variations on Violence, a novella in the First Breed series.

Here's the mini-blurb:

Nichol Gothe and Brewster Walters, two detectives in the major crimes unit, go undercover to bust up rebel alliance in the under city. But when Nichol has to use her meta-human ability, Brewster can't decide whether to trust she's working for justice or turn her in to the task force commander. Nichol sends him reeling when she reveals how deeply the secret society of freaks and geeks has infiltrated the regular human world.

And a preview snippet…

Raven stood when Nichol approached. "Detective Gothe, thanks for coming." Her hand shot forward and a smile crossed her face.
The gesture transformed the already attractive woman into a vision of beauty. Nichol automatically shook Raven's hand with a firm grip, but couldn't seem to look away from the piercing gaze of the woman who'd given so many of Nichol's kind refuge. Nichol would swear she didn't do the awestruck thing, but meeting Raven in person probably counted as being close.
She blinked and finally let go of Raven's palm. "Er, sorry." Settling across from the woman when Raven sat down, Nichol got her shit together. "I'm happy to meet. Captain Daniels mentioned you wanted to brief me on the undercover op." The urge to pepper the woman with questions fought hard to win the moment.
But Nichol resisted. She owed Raven the respect of waiting at least five full minutes before diving into a Q&A with her.
Raven's lips curved and she nodded. "Yes, I asked him for this meeting." She studied Nichol a moment. "But first, you're wondering why the hell I'm saddling you with Brewster Walters, aren't you?" The smile disappeared and one eyebrow arched.
Nichol flushed, a little unnerved by Raven's perception. "Well… in a word… yeah." Hopefully, she didn't sound bitchy, but the idea of taking a normal into the underground sure seemed crazy.
Raven raked a hand through her hair. "How much do you know about my story? Not about being the leader of the underground, but about my origin."
Nichol lifted a shoulder. "As much as most of us do. You have the same messed up DNA the rest of us have, but you were also experimented on, which enhanced your latent abilities, right?" Raven became the leader of the freaks and geeks because she had a foot on both sides.
Raven lifted her chin. "Yeah, that about covers it." Her tone indicated further discussion wouldn't happen. "And that brings us to the reason I want Brewster with you working the underground…" Her voice trailed off and she pursed her lips for a moment.
Nichol quirked an eyebrow. "Which is…" Impertinent maybe, but she didn't like beating around the issue.
Raven placed her elbows on the table. "Brewster Walters was at the same research facility I escaped from." She leaned forward a little and lowered her voice. "And… he has no idea he's one of us."
Nichol blinked, stunned stupid.
Well, hell.

I love this potential series and hope I can find the time to finish writing a couple of the stories I want to tell.



That's it for this week.

Cheers!


Skye

Sunday, September 10, 2017

Sunday Snippet: A Valentine Caper

I'm hoping anyone in the path of a hurricane is hunkered down and safe. I have family in Florida and a best friend in Texas—who survived Harvey relatively unscathed—and they haven't seen the last of the crazy, intense storms.

From what I'm seeing on previews, it looks like The Last Ship will have a huge storm to deal with on screen. They're oddly in step with real world events, which is one of the bizarre yet cool things. Last week's episode ended up being way better than I thought it would be. And Mike didn't die so bonus points for that.

I'm completely caught up on Teen Wolf and, wow, things are getting super intense. Gerard is batshit, per usual, but on a whole new level. And the guidance teacher chick, whose name I never remember, is annoyingly single-minded. Looking forward to tonight's episode to see what new blast from the past appears.

I caught the finale of Killjoys and it didn't disappoint. I'm so happy we get two more seasons of this cast and crew. I'm very interested in where the storyline involving the lady will go. And, of course, I need my Jacobi brother fix… sandwiched or not.

I also got caught up and watched the finale of Wynonna Earp. This show… is total gold. Somewhat like Lost Girl, the show hasn't met a genre rule it won't break and I love it even more because of that. I'm excited to see what next season brings.

I should be starting The Defenders this week and catching up with season seven of Hawaii Five-0. I'm also thinking about starting the British drama Fearless, which stars one of my favorite actors.

That's it for television this week. Tonight's post is from A Valentine Caper, a novella about a cupid who wants a normal guy.

Here's the mini-blurb:

A cupid, Lorna Heartshorn, is a workaholic who wants to spend Valentine's Day—the one day her magic doesn't work—with a mortal man who needs a hot woman. When Gus Shepler pops up on her radar, she thinks she's found the perfect guy and sets out to seduce him. No easy feat, since he's sworn off women after a string of bad luck and nasty break-ups.

And a preview snippet…

Gus Shepler paid for the six pack of craft beer and nodded to the cashier. "Thanks. Have a great night." He made his way to the front of the store and met up with Harvey and Mitchell, his two best friends from about age five.
Mitch slapped Gus on the back. "Dude, the cashier just licked her lips." He leaned in and lowered his voice. "Think she fancies you as a late night snack."
Harvey laughed out loud, thankfully after they'd exited the store, and nudged Gus's shoulder. "You oughtta run back in and get her number."
Gus rolled his eyes. "I told you guys I'm done. Off the market. Full on moratorium until otherwise noted." He'd had his fill of bad luck on the dating front.
Mitch popped the door of Gus's car open. "Look, man, fine. We'll back off." He slid into the passenger seat and waited until Harvey and Gus took their spots before adding more. "Harv and I just want you to find what we have."
Gus nodded. "And maybe I will someday." He shot Mitch a sideways glance. "At least I don't have to get all duded up for fancy-schmancy dinners this weekend."
Valentine's Day with the works. Both men had hot dates lined up with their longtime girlfriends. Gus used to love the holiday, always looking forward to the cheesy trappings—wine, flowers, dinner, dancing—and spending it with a woman who shared his passion. Sadly, his recent experiences put him off dating altogether.
Harv shook his head. "So, you're really going to spend V-day weekend holed up at your place, watching movies, eating junk food and drinking beer?" He grimaced.
Gus nodded. "Yep. Blessedly alone. You got it." No headaches, just a shit ton of action movies and a binge-eating fest.
Not exactly healthy, but he could trash eat one day of the year, right?
Mitch added his two cents. "You're not even going to try to hook up with any of your former flames for a booty call?"  
Gus shot him a quick glance. "Are you kidding? Mirina has too much baggage between her ex and her parents trying to run her life. Sali probably wouldn't be able to find the time to meet somewhere, let alone spare the time for a conversation—"
Harv snapped his fingers. "She's the one who wanted you to be available when she called and got pissed when you had to, you know, actually go to work like a normal person, right?"
Gus bobbed his head. "That's the one." He made a quick turn on the street the guys lived on. "Brenna's out because she kept calling me Brad… because she was dating him at the same time she was going out with me." He stopped in front of Harv's house. "And Jeanie, well, I'm pretty sure she's got a date with her husband for Valentine's Day."
Mitch rolled his eyes. "We'll give you that one. Open relationship or not, she could've at least clued you in to her marital status."
Damn straight. Gus couldn't care less how Jeanie and her husband defined wedded bliss, but he didn't appreciate the unexpected arrival of the man during a steamy encounter.
Harv popped the door open. "On that note, maybe your idea of solo fun isn't a bad one." He tapped on the roof of the car. "I'll drive tomorrow. Pick you guys up around six?"
Gus and Mitch gave Harvey a thumbs-up and he waved before heading up the walk to his small cottage. Gus pulled away from the curb and drove four blocks to stop in front of Mitch's apartment housed on the lower level of a huge brownstone. He put the vehicle in park and waited for Mitch to exit.
His friend heaved a sigh. "You're sure you won't change your mind and try to find a date?"
Gus shook his head. "Why is this such a big deal for you two? Not like we all haven't gone through dry spells before." He seriously didn't get their concern.
Mitch shrugged. "You think we haven't noticed the whole restless thing you've been doing lately?" His hand lingered on the door handle. "We've been friends for how long? A dry spell is one thing… this feels like something more." He got out and ducked his head back into the interior. "Catch you tomorrow."
Gus sat outside the brownstone for a while, mulling over Mitch's observation. Gus finally turned on the engine and headed down the street, turning at the next left. He lived two blocks up and one road down in a small two-story house he'd inherited from his grandmother. Pulling into his driveway, he barely remembered parking and getting out. He put his beer away on autopilot and wandered into his living room, turning the television on and settling onto the couch, kicking his feet up on the cushion.
When had the itchy feet feeling started? Because Mitch and Harvey weren't wrong. Gus had a vague unsettled yearning for something else.
If asked, he'd be hard-pressed to say what, though.
Flipping through the channels, he landed on an old classic film and placed the remote on the table. He'd have to take some time and think hard about life and what he really wanted.
But not right now. At the moment, a movie and some sleep sounded pretty damn good.

Lorna will have her work cut out. Gus isn't going to be easy to hook up with.



That's it for this week.

Cheers!


Skye

Sunday, September 3, 2017

Sunday Snippet: Utter Not a Word

Hello, September. I'm always caught off guard when the calendar flips over to September 1. It's like, wait, wait, I'm not ready for the insanity to start yet. Sadly, the universe doesn't care and the days keep marching on anyway.

The Last Ship's second week provided entertaining fare. I can't wait to see what happened after the end of last week's episode.

Caught the finale for Dark Matter and truly hope it's not the actual series finale. Way too many questions left up in the air. Fingers crossed someone picks up the series and it continues on some way.

Killjoys is renewed for two more seasons! I'm up to the episode before the finale and I'm so, so happy we'll get more of this terrific cast and show.

Wynonna Earp keeps blowing me away. I only have a few more episodes to watch before the finale. I'll honestly be glad to see the last of the widows.

I'm caught up on Teen Wolf and ready for tonight's episode. More familiar faces are returning and I'm excited to see what happens this week.

That wraps up television for this week. Tonight's post is from Utter Not a Word, a novella that started with the two-word prompt of "move over".

Here's the mini-blurb:

Maren Roth is reeling over the loss of her oldest friend after a skirmish with an opposing faction goes horribly wrong. Wayne Edelman, a superior adept with the responsibility of their sect resting in his hands, offers comfort and support in a very unexpected way and Maren realizes the man has become an expert on reading her moods. With a huge battle brewing, she takes solace in the concept that together with Wayne, they might have a fighting chance at winning.

And a preview snippet…

Maren Roth put her hands out and pushed a blastwave of air toward her opponent. "Jessie, we have to keep moving. There're too many of them." She pressed her back against her best friend's.
The two women circled the area, facing away from each other, flinging everything they had at the trio of wizards and their half dozen mage cohorts. Nine enemies were more than the two women could hold off for long.
Jessie Newell spoke an incantation and conjured two large fireballs. "I'm going to up the heat, be ready for retaliation." She flung the flaming orbs at two of the wizards.
One scored a direct hit and his two mages dropped to his side, pulling him out of the room.
Maren braced for impact. The other two wizards, one male and one female, combined forces and raised their arms above their heads. Maren caught the tail end of the spell—a forceblast—and barely got out of the way, shoving Jessie down when Maren dived sideways.
She got to her knees. "Jessie, stay low. Backup can't be far now." She sent bolts of electrical energy out, zapping two more mages.
They dropped where they stood, but wouldn't stay down long.
Jessie scrambled up from her crouch. "I'll buy some more time." She clapped her hands together, speaking an ancient language, then drew her palms apart, ready to unleash the spell.
Movement caught Maren's attention. The two wizards formed a linked chain with the remaining mages. Not only would they block whatever Jessie threw at them, the charge would amplify and create a feedback loop that would zing back to its caster.
Maren shouted a warning. "Jessie, no! Don't send the—"
Too late. Jessie let the powerful burst fly. The shockwave fanned out, bouncing off the wall of supernatural beings. The force sent them sprawling, breaking the link—but not soon enough to disperse the magnification of the original spell.
Helpless to stop the ricochet effect, Maren shouted, "No!" She couldn't get to Jessie in time to break the forceful wave or absorb part of the energy.
Jessie went airborne, slamming upward into the rafters of the building before banking off the steel gird to crash against the metal interior wall. The door on the far side of the building burst open and off its hinges, admitting the backup team of Wayne Edelman, Bart Simone, and Linder Adams. Maren crawled over to Jessie's prone form. The new arrivals could handle the rogue wizards.
Maren gathered Jessie in her arms. Lifeless eyes met Maren's gaze. Tears prickled and leaked out, trickling down Maren's cheeks.
She smoothed a hand over Jessie's forehead. "Damn you, Jessie. You're not supposed to ever get caught by a rookie maneuver." Anger and rage built over the loss.
Maren carefully placed Jessie back on the floor and rose, singling out the two wizards. She went darkside, raining hellfire down on everyone. She vaguely became aware Wayne countered most of her damaging outpouring and Linder and Bart got the others safely in custody.
Wayne motioned for the team to clear the room. The red haze of fury drained from Maren and white hot grief replaced it. Maren made her way back to Jessie, kneeling down beside her, and let the pain and sadness wash over Maren. Wayne remained close but far enough away to give Maren some privacy.
Saying goodbye to her oldest and best friend—the sister in spirit Maren always wanted—crushed something deep in Maren's soul. She hovered over her friend, whispering the death rites, then singing the keening song of departure. When it came to performing the last act, committing Jessie's body to ash, Maren couldn't speak the incantation.
Wayne put a hand on Maren's shoulder. "Let me." When she nodded, he took over and handled the final phase.
Jessie's form flared into flames, her aura burning a bright purple before slowly extinguishing to black soot. A part of Maren broke when she gazed down at the pile of cinders where her friend used to be. For the first time in a very long while, Maren had no idea what to do. Her next steps always involved Jessie.
Wayne wrapped an arm around her. "We need to leave, Maren. It's time to go."
She didn't want to move, but didn't fight Wayne when he guided her out of the building and into the midnight blue SUV. She couldn't remember the drive back to the estate, but Wayne cut the engine and got out, coming around to open her door.
She slid out, her legs collapsing. A wave of fresh pain hit her hard but, this time, the agony flared around her head, making the world go fuzzy and gray. Wayne caught her and swept an arm under her knees, hauling her close to his chest.
He started for the main doors of the manor. "Come on, Maren. Let's get you inside and back to being whole."
Maren wanted to laugh but feared the sound would have a hysterical edge to it.
Her head pounded and her vision swam. From grief or injury, she couldn't say.
The only thing Maren did know at that moment? Being whole again might not be an option.

This one is a challenge to write but I'm enjoying it.



That's it for this week.

Cheers!


Skye

Sunday, August 27, 2017

Sunday Snippet: Urban Grit

So… The Last Ship has a beyond awesome two-hour season premiere. I'm so happy this show is back on my television! I love where the characters are and I've added Meylan to my "do not kill" list. The showrunners better be listening or they're paying my bar tab at the end of the season. Just saying.

I'm making headway on my catch-up viewing of Killjoys, Dark Matter, and Wynonna Earp. Totally love where all three shows are going. Killjoys just makes me happy with the twisty turns it takes when I'm least expecting them. I didn't know if I'd be on board with the whole Aneela shtick, but I really like the small revelations we get here and there. Dark Matter can be uber confusing sometimes, but I like the overall arc of where things end up. Wynonna Earp blows my mind. The cast interactions are amazing and I'm so happy another season will be on tap.

Catching up on Teen Wolf and, yeah, Gerard being back makes things very interesting. I love the element of fear being almost personified. Looking forward to where everything ends up.

In casting news, one of my favorite actresses signed on to be a villain on The Flash. Looking forward to seeing what Katee brings to the table as a baddie.

That's it for television this week. Tonight's post is from Urban Grit, a novella that got a start with a request to write something in subway tunnels. I liked the idea and we'll see if I can work those tunnels into the story.

Here's the mini-blurb:

Keeley Fitz and Holt Matterworth produce and star in the reality docu-style web drama, Urban Grit. They shamelessly drag their friends along on their adventures where they try to bust and debunk urban myths… except they quickly learn most legends all have a basis in truth.

And a preview snippet…

Keeley Fitz adjusted the camera angle and handed the device to her friend Joanie Carson. "Get some shots of the furniture and d├ęcor. This stuff looks like it's straight out of Victorian England." Some of the items might fetch a nice price at auction, even if they weren't true antiques.
Holt Matterworth, Keeley's partner in everything, shook his head. "Keels, we talked about this. No one cares what the interior of the haunted house looks like." He nudged the fourth occupant of the room with his shoulder. "Back me up on this, Dean."
Dean Wallander shrugged. "Considering we're in the middle of the city and this old place looks like it's never seen an upgrade or reno, I'm kind of with Keeley." He shot Holt an apologetic glance. "Can't hurt to showcase the creepy ambiance."
Holt sighed. "Fine. Keeley, while you and Joanie are getting atmosphere shots, Dean and I will actually try to find whatever is supposedly haunting this place." He picked up a second camera and started for the foyer.
Keeley motioned for Joanie to continue filming then followed the guys. "Holt, hold up a moment." She grabbed his arm and tugged him around to face her. "For luck." She bounced up on her tiptoes and brushed her lips over his.
He grinned and hauled her close. "You can do better than that." His head lowered and he slanted his mouth over hers, his tongue sweeping inside to duel with hers.
Keeley melted against him, fisting her hands in his shirt. Holt might get a little cranky when shoots didn't go his way, but he never failed to respond when she tried to make amends. Their chemistry made their web series, Urban Grit, incredibly popular.
Dean cleared his throat. "Hello? Trying to get footage for your next episode. You don't see Joanie and me making out while we're trying to work."
Holt lifted his head and shot Dean a sideways glance. "Perks of being the producer instead of a lowly employee." His mouth caught Keeley's in a quick, hard kiss.
Joanie snorted. "Employees get paid. Friends only go along for the ride."
Keeley laughed. "Only the best of friends, which you and Dean are." She stepped away from Holt. "Go, you two. We won't be long." She swept an arm out. "Seriously, we can't pass up the opportunity to catalog the vintage style here." Crossing over to Joanie, she waved at the man when they exited the room.
Joanie shook her head. "You know I'm not serious about the being paid thing, right?" She panned the room, taking sweeping shots of the walls.
Keeley moved the limited light they had, shining it on the fireplace. "I know. But with sponsorship growing and the new advertising packages, don't be surprised if you and Dean get a big bonus around the holidays." A bright sheen caught her attention and she moved closer to the mantel with the light. "You're both popular with our viewers so, who knows, maybe we can convince you guys to take on a bigger role than being tagalongs." The source of the almost ethereal shine turned out to be an ornate sconce flanking one side of the painted brick chimney.
The taper candle tilted at an angle and the holder listed to one side.
Joanie moved up behind Keeley, pointing the camera at the fireplace. "Wow, that's gorgeous." She used her free hand to straighten the candleholder. "Such intricate detailing and scrollwork. I haven't seen—" Joanie gasped. "Ouch! Damn, that hurt." She shook her hand then brought her finger to her mouth. "Ugh. I cut myself on one of the leaves." Several beads of blood welled on her skin.
Keeley grabbed Joanie's palm, getting a look at the injury. "Let's get this cleaned up. I have a bottle of water in the camera bag. We should at least flush the area and put some antibiotic ointment and a band-aid on it." She dragged Joanie to the equipment bundle and fished around to find the needed items.
Joanie turned the camera off. "I'm such a klutz. I know better than to start messing with furniture."
They had a close call last year when a chandelier nearly fell on top of them when they moved a dust-cover clad sofa.
Keeley chuckled. "This is minor. At least we're not sweeping up glass and paying for damages." She checked the pinprick wounds. "Looks like the bleeding stopped. Let me get a band-aid." After applying ointment, she wound the sheer strip over the injured spot.
Joanie wiggled her finger. "All better. Except for the throbbing. Why do such small boo-boos hurt so bad?" She grabbed the camera again and turned it back on.
Keeley shrugged. "Getting hurt in the line of non-paid duty always stings." She started for the foyer. "Let's find the guys and see if we can stay out of trouble."
Joanie laughed and followed behind.

Neither woman noticed the eerie reddish-orange glow that rippled around the sconce then burst into form before landing on the floor in front of the fireplace.

I like how this scene came together and it might serve as the opening to the book.



That's it for this week.

Cheers!


Skye

Sunday, August 20, 2017

Sunday Snippet: Unforeseen Consequences

I'm so excited for The Last Ship season premiere tonight! I can't wait to see where my favorite sailors are and what they're doing.

I'm an episode behind on Teen Wolf, but should be caught up later tonight or tomorrow.

Got another episode or two in of Dark Matter and Killjoys. Still need to catch up on Wynonna Earp. I'm truly loving Killjoys this season. I'm totally wondering if any additional traitors will be revealed. New nerd is on my super watch list. Just saying.

Hoping to start The Defenders this week. So far, I'm reading positive reviews… not that I wouldn't watch if they all tanked the show. I like too many of the characters to not see what they're up to.

I might have to break down and watch Midnight Texas, but it'll be on Demand. I have such a negative hate on for NBC as a network… which truly sucks because they own one of my favorite channels. <sigh>

That's it for television this week. Tonight's post is from Unforeseen Consequences, a novella based on the story prompt of writing the consequences of a lost bet. I took the premise and added a little twist, which I'm enjoying a lot.

Here's the mini-blurb:

In the School for the Extraordinarily Gifted, Stella Stubbs and Dak Satterfield hold the record for the most challenges won. As instructors, they no longer join in on the fun, but both enjoy watching their students try to break their top scores—until a dangerous element is introduced and they discover their last wager won had unforeseen consequences.

And a preview snippet…

Dak Satterfield hit just the right spot.
Stella Stubbs arched her back, letting out a long moan. "Don't stop, Dak. Don't stop." She writhed beneath him, edging closer to a shattering release.
Dak grasped her hips, using short, rapid strokes to push her over the brink. "Come for me, Stella. I'm right there with you." He withdrew almost all the way then drove deep, flexing his ass.
She gasped and shuddered, the orgasm rippling through her. Dak thrust forward again and held her flush against his groin when he came. His fingers dug into her skin, sparking aftershocks of pleasure along her nerve endings.
He collapsed, twisted to the side, and hauled her close. "Great sex is the best way to start the day." His lips ghosted over her shoulder.
Stella grinned. "Especially when we're heading into the most taxing semester of the school year." Their students would be testing their newfound magical ability.
Dak groaned. "Ugh. You had to remind me." He slid from the bed, stretching his arms over his head.
Stella admired the view. His lean body sexier than ever. After almost ten years together, she'd noticed the gradual change from handsome youth to hard-bodied man. She'd never regret sharing the progression with him.
He grabbed her hand, tugging her from the warm haven of the sheets and comforter. "Come on. Shower time." His palm cupped her ass on the way to the bathroom.
Stella laughed. "Down boy. We don't have time for round two this morning." Twisting the knob, she adjusted the temperature of the spray.
Dak stepped under the still cold water. "Then I suggest you don't make any plans for tonight. I'll be keeping you very busy." He pulled her into the stall and handed her the shower gel and made room for her under the now steamy mist.
They finished quickly and dried off before wandering back to the bedroom to dress for class.
Stella chose loose, casual pants and a flowing shirt. "You know, even though it's going to be insane, I'm really looking forward to class today." She saved some time by drying her hair with a quick incantation.
Dak paused the buttoning of his usual pair of dungarees to flash a grin. "I know. I bitch and complain, but we've got a terrific group of novices. I don't think any of them will be bowing out." A rare occurrence.
Stella put her hair on top of her head, her gaze on Dak while he shrugged into a sinfully tight t-shirt. "I agree. In fact, I'm going to stop by Phelps's office and get that on the record." Every year, the teaching staff started a pool with their predictions for the upcoming graduating class.
Dak quirked a brow. "You think he'll continue the tradition?"
Wilson Phelps, a former classmate, arrived mid-semester, taking over the role of headmaster after the previous one retired to go on sabbatical. The timing proved to be chaotic, but they'd managed to keep to their normal schedule.
Stella cocked her head to one side. "He's a former student, hell, a former classmate. Why wouldn't he hold to the status quo?" If memory served, Phelps jumped into any and all pools, wagers, and questionable activities when he attended the academy.
Dak shrugged. "He always worked angles no one else even considered. And don't forget he lost to us in the last competition. He might hold a grudge." He finished getting his shoes on and moved to stand behind her.
Stella met his gaze in the mirror. "For ten years? Over nothing more than bragging rights?" Their competitive antics didn't factor in their final grade then and didn't now.
Dak turned her to face him. "Maybe I'm overthinking things. You know I never liked Phelps. But he's our new boss and I haven't had any concerns since he took over." He caught her lips in a quick, hard kiss. "I'll get the class warmed up. See you in a few."
She nodded. "I won't be long." Especially if Wilson decided to make some sweeping changes no one expected.

Stella and Dak definitely have some fresh challenges they'll have to face and Wilson will play an interesting role in how things happen.



That's it for this week.

Cheers!


Skye

Sunday, August 13, 2017

Sunday Snippet: Underbelly

Wow. I so look forward to my Sunday posts, mainly because the crazy that is the real world makes discussing fictional television shows and books a nice, lovely interlude.

Teen Wolf followed up with a terrific episode. I literally laughed for a good, long while during Stiles's FBI scene. The return of Old Man Crazypants didn't disappoint either. Just saying.

Had a seriously busy week playing taxi driver for the kids. Didn't get to catch up on anymore Killjoys or Dark Matter. I have to throw Wynonna Earp in there, too.

Now that the end of Orphan Black happened, I'll be adding that show to my queue to binge watch the entire final season. Can't wait!

The Last Ship premieres next week!! Really looking forward to having my favorites back on the screen. And crossing my fingers that I don't lose my super-secret top few this season. Won't be holding my breath on that one. LOL

That's it for television this week. Tonight's post is from Underbelly, a novella that got a writing community prompt to write a noir detective story. I love the feel of a good noir and couldn't wait to get started with my own little twist on the genre.

Here's the mini-blurb:

Jarrod Steele is a private investigator who deals with the weird and the unknown and can find anything his clients want. His super-efficient assistant, Maylin Rose, along with her unique skill set, makes sure of it.

And a preview snippet…

Maylin Rose straddled her partner's lap, doing her best to distract him from work. "Come on, Jarrod. We've been here half the day already." She worked the top two buttons of his shirt loose.
Jarrod Steele had a fantastic chest and she enjoyed ogling the broad expanse whenever she could.
Jarrod did his best impression of a stern glare. "Maylin, I need to finish this report so we can bill our very satisfied client." He leaned around her, writing another quick sentence.
Maylin tsked. "Considering they're happy because of me, I think I deserve a pre-lunch break in the form of a satisfying romp." She'd managed to reacquire a stack of very revealing photos showing a young starlet in the throes of passion with her costar.
Maylin's ability to get in and out of secure locations barely warranted mention. But the profuse thanks and promise of a quick payday definitely kept their two-person firm in demand. Of course, everyone thought Jarrod ran the show, which suited Maylin just fine. She preferred to stay in the background, acting as a somewhat secret weapon in Jarrod's arsenal. He'd made her a full partner before they got personally involved, leaving no doubt about his confidence in bringing her on board.
She'd finally found a man who didn't hold her past against her and appreciated the unique skill set she brought with her. Jarrod's exceptional connections and various underbelly contacts also gave them an edge. He kept tabs on anything and everything paranormal and supernatural related. Their combined resources got them through doors no one else could enter. Maylin planned to make sure they stayed on top of the private investigations heap.
But she also liked to keep Jarrod from taking life too seriously. Hence the desire for some sexy fun in the office. She leaned forward, ready to flick her tongue against his ear when the phone rang.
She reached behind her and grabbed the handset. "Jarrod Steele Enterprises. We'll find whatever you're looking for." She used her super sultry secretary voice—the one Jarrod said oozed sex and sin and sensual promise.
And never failed to make his cock spring to life… sort of like now.
Maylin continued the conversation with a prospective new client, her lips curving into a smile when Jarrod finished the report with a flourish. By the time she hung up the phone, he'd closed the file and set it aside.
Maylin shifted backwards and made a move to slide off Jarrod's lap.
He snagged her hips. "Oh, no. Where do you think you're going?" His hands skimmed along her sides.
She gave him a saucy smirk and stood up. "New client coming in. Thought I'd get everything ready for him." Which usually meant sitting at the desk while she faked typing up files.
Jarrod stood up, crowding into her personal space. "Where's he coming from?" He flicked the first two buttons of her blouse open.
Maylin suppressed a shudder of hot desire. "Murphy Towers over on Larchmont." She didn't object when Jarrod finished undoing her shirt and tugged the fabric from her skirt.
He grabbed her hips and spun her around to face the desk. "It'll take him at least thirty minutes to get across town." His warm breath fanned against her ear. "Plenty of time to make you scream my name before he gets here." He inched her skirt up over her ass and eased her panties down before slipping his hand between her thighs.
Maylin moaned low in her throat. "Mmm. You really kike my sex kitten voice, don't you?" The sound of his pants dropping provided a definitely clue.
Jarrod grasped her hips, pulling her flush against his groin. "You know I do." He maneuvered his thick erection lower, the tip nudging up to her wet and ready core. "And someone mentioned a need for a satisfying romp not too long ago." His hands palmed her breasts over the lacy fabric of her bra.
Maylin braced her forearms on the desk and pushed back, enveloping the first few inches of his hard shaft. "Yes, someone did. But I don't recall anything about screaming your name."
Jarrod thrust forward, going balls deep. "Oh, it'll happen. You can trust me on that one."
True to his word, fifteen minutes later, Maylin shouted him name with her head thrown back in ecstasy.

I'm thoroughly enjoying the chemistry between Maylin and Jarrod. This will be a treat to finish.



That's it for this week.

Cheers!


Skye

Sunday, August 6, 2017

Sunday Snippet: Under the Blackhawk Banner

Hello August! So many things going on this month. School starts for my one and only daughter and one and only student this year. She's involved in the music and athletic departments and the fall tends to be very busy. She's already started her golf season and band practice started also. She had a busy week with band camp from 8 to 3 and then golf qualifying from 4 to 6. She's got the number three spot right now and is happy being there. They have almost twice the amount of girls this year and everyone is excited about growing the sport.

Teen Wolf's premiere didn't disappoint. I'm excited to see how everything wraps up. I loved the surprises and can't wait for more. Keep them coming!

Got a few more episodes of Killjoys in and really like how the season is shaping up. Here's hoping there's a renewal in the future.

I'm also almost caught up on Dark Matter. I continue to enjoy the interactions and character arcs.

Need to catch the last two episodes of Wynonna Earp and I hope I can get that done this week.

Seeing more promo for The Last Ship… looking forward to the premiere in two weeks!!

That's it for television this week. Tonight's post is from Under the Blackhawk Banner, a novella based on a prompt to write an alternative timeline or universe for WWII.

Here's the mini-blurb:

In a battle-torn land, the saving grace is the Blackhawk Banner. Any who fly the flag are protected by the elite group of pilots and their crew who pull off amazing feats of victory. Verity Jones, the lone female in the group, is about to become one of their secret weapons, and Emory Cavendish will make it happen, over the protests of damned near everyone.

And a preview snippet…

Verity Jones strode through the line of men into the huge manor—a former castle—and followed the indicator signs to the company commander's office. She ignored the gaping mouths and widened eyes, very used to the stir she caused. The Blackhawk Banner flew proudly from the parapet, meaning she belonged as much as the next person.
Even if I am a female.
She stopped outside the closed door of Colonel Earl Whitcomb, the head of the civilian base, and rapped sharply on the jamb.
"Enter!"
She took a deep breath, twisted the knob, and walked into the office.
The colonel sat behind his desk and another man occupied the chair facing him. Dark hair, longer than standard military, brushed his shirt collar. He angled his head around and met Verity's gaze with his amber one. He rose slightly and nodded then settled back into the seat. She blinked once then shifted her focus to Whitcomb.
His brows knit and he rose from his seat. "Who the hell are you and how did you get access to my base?" He made a move to come around the desk.
Verity stared straight ahead, coming to attention. "VJ Jones, specialist, reporting for duty." The Blackhawks utilized a rank structure similar to the military even though they operated as a civilian outfit.
Whitcomb's eyes narrowed. "You're a woman." He held out a hand. "Orders. Let me have them."
Verity slid them from her pocket and slapped the papers into his palm. He shook the pages open and scanned the contents, grumbling under his breath. When he finished, he tossed the documents on his desk and folded his arms over his chest.
Verity remained silent, bracing for the usual response.
Whitcomb didn't disappoint. "Don't get too comfortable, Jones. You, no doubt, lied on your application to the Blackhawk program, or deliberately tried to mislead the home office by using your initials instead of your name. Women are not allowed to serve in our elite corps." He moved again, putting the wide expanse of oak between them. "I won't let you remain and become a distraction to the men." His face turned a mottled shade of crimson.
Verity itched to smack the man, but calmly met his gaze. "Sir, you might want to review the signatures on the orders and the addendum they included." She kept her tone even and devoid of the frustration coursing through her.
Whitcomb snatched the papers again and flipped to the final one. His lips thinned to a harsh line and his nostrils flared when he inhaled. Anger tinged with defeat entered his gaze.
He glanced at the man still seated across from him. "Cavendish, apparently the president and the prime minister are well aware they've sent a female to work with us. Find her a place to stay—well away from my men—and brief her on our upcoming missions." He pinned Verity with a nasty glare. "If you cause any trouble or start any fights between my pilots, I don't care whose signatures are present on your orders. I'll make sure you're transferred to a place better suited for your kind." He waved a hand toward her in disgust.
My kind? Meaning a woman with boobs and hips?
Verity bit back the terse response. "I look forward to keeping your planes in the air, Sir. I can start immediately."
Whitcomb shuddered. "That's not necessary. Cavendish will brief you, sort out quarters for you, then, if there's time, he can show you the hangar. But only if it doesn't keep him from his other duties. We're a very busy base, specialist." He nearly spat the title at her.
She shot a quick glance in Cavendish's direction. He'd risen and waited patiently for the colonel's dismissal. Whitcomb shook his head and motioned for them to leave.
Verity kept her anger in check and preceded Cavendish out of the office. When he pulled the door closed, she turned and sized him up. He didn't wear the mantle of rage like Whitcomb. In fact, he appeared relaxed and at ease. Might she have a potential ally?
She thrust her hand forward. "We haven't been properly introduced. VJ Jones."
He grasped her palm. "The colonel is short on pleasantries, especially when his world tilts on its axis. Emory Cavendish, captain of the air guard." His firm shake didn't linger, which she appreciated.
But his words caught her off guard. "Captain of the air guard? Why on earth are you acting as my tour guide then?" Whitcomb couldn't be more of an ass.
Emory gave her a half-smile. "Being a civilian operation, we wear a lot of hats around here." He started forward, toward the main hall of the estate.
Verity followed then fell into step beside him. "Meaning you're the colonel's go-to guy when he doesn't want to deal with something distasteful?" Namely her.
Emory huffed out a laugh. "You catch on very quickly, Specialist Jones." He paused a moment. "It won't be easy, but you'll fit in just fine around here." He took a set of keys from his pocket and slid one into a locked door. "Let's get started with some quarters. How about I brief you on the way?"
Verity gave a nod. "Sounds efficient. Please, lead on." Stepping into a darkened wing, she squared her shoulders and took the first steps toward her new place in life.

I'm having a terrific time writing this one. The sages are already feeding me ideas for more books so hopefully Emory and Verity's story will continue.



That's it for this week.

Cheers!


Skye